


Children of the Vault

by Praelias



Series: Stories from the Vault [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Child Experimentation, F/F, F/M, FEV, Fallout, M/M, Multi, PVP, pev, vault 75
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:51:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17680304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Praelias/pseuds/Praelias
Summary: *HIATUS FOR RE-WRITING*Beneath Boston's Malden Middle School lies Vault 75; a vault designed to improve the human gene pool, and one with a dark secret: child experimentation. Alma Lancaster, one of the children of the vault, along with her companions and brother, uncover the repulsive truth behind the experiments they've been subjected to, and plot a revolt against the research staff. Will they survive? What will happen if they succeed, when no one is left to operate the vault?





	1. Chapter 1

January, 2282

"Faster."

"Are you sure, sir?" Rochelle spared a glance to the Overseer. He, as usual, wore a pair of khakis and a button up shirt under his lab coat. Coffee was in his hand – a luxury she knew most of the Wasteland lacked – and his eyes were clearly tired. Given the fact that he was 78 years old, she wasn't surprised at the exhaustion.

The man smirked. It was clear, however, that it was out of annoyance rather than amusement. "I'm sure, Doctor Morris. Clearly, you don't understand how things work just yet; you do what I say, when I say, without question on these kids. If you can't do that, you get dealt with just like the sub-par experiments do. Clear?"

Murder. That's what he meant. The children that didn't meet the Vault's standards were incinerated, apparently along with any scientists that Overseer Hayes deemed unfit to do their jobs. The woman hesitated, but adjusted the treadmill's speed as she'd been directed to. On it was a girl, about seventeen, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She was one of their most promising subjects, and she'd been running on that damn thing for about a day and a half. Her endurance was astounding. Any other subject except for James Smith would've collapsed by now. Those two, though? They were incredible.

"Doctor Morris," the Overseer growled, "Are we clear?" He'd apparently wanted to  _hear_ her answer.

"Yes, sir," she muttered.

"Good. Now, let me know when she passes out. She's been going for a while and I want to know what her limits are." He eyed the girl for a moment before stepping out of the observation room. There were two floors to the vault; the research staff was above, and the experiments were down below. Rather than interacting with children (and risking the staff getting attached), they watched and conducted the experiments from the upper floor and observed through their glass floors.

Rochelle remained silent once Hayes had left, keeping an eye on the girl. Finally, after thirty five hours of running, Alma Lancaster fainted, and she shut the treadmill off. After doing so, she watched as a pair of synths cleaned the girl up and returned her to the sleeping quarters.

Alma woke with a groan. Her head pounded, her body was sore, and she was dying for a drink.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty." A boy was next to her bed, a smile plastered onto his face. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and bright green eyes. Like her, he was thin, but his muscles were well defined. In his hands were a bottle of water and a sweet roll. "I thought you might be hungry," he said, holding the items out to her, "Here."

She sat up and snatched the water from him, chugging it within moments and then tossing it to the foot of the bed. Her limbs quivered, probably weak from exhaustion. "How long did I go for?" she asked, looking to the boy as she took the sweet roll.

He grinned. "You beat me. You went for thirty five hours. I went for thirty four and a half."

"Don't mess with me, James," she warned, "How long did I run?"

"Thirty five," he repeated with a laugh. "Seriously, Alma. Ask the doctor yourself if you don't believe me. Or any of the other kids. We were all watching."

The girl broke out into a grin. The extra thirty minutes would bump her up to top of their class, at least in endurance. In everything else, she was tied with James, with the exception of weapons and combat. He was always a hair faster than her, no matter how much practice she put in. "Rohit too?"

"Rohit too," he confirmed.

"Good. Now maybe he'll stop treating me like glass." She took the sweet roll from her companion, tearing off a piece and popping it into her mouth.

"I doubt it." James leaned back in his chair. "He's your brother. That's what they do."

She shrugged. "Maybe brothers in Uptopland just let their sisters do what they want."

"Uptopland is full of people who need help, Alma." He eyed her. "You shouldn't joke about them. They've got it rough."

"What, and we don't?" Her gaze shifted from the bed to James. "A girl died last week because the researchers exposed her to so much radiation that her skin peeled off, James. Another kid died last year because he had a heart attack on the treadmills we did so well on. Those researchers are killing us, and we don't have a way to leave."

"Alma." His voice was hard as he stared her down. "Shut up. We're gonna leave at Graduation, and we're gonna help those people. That's all we need to worry about." The kids Alma was talking about had both been thirteen when they'd died. Truth be told, he resented the Vault's research staff. But talking about it? Out loud? If anyone overheard, he and Alma would surely face some kind of punishment. He wasn't about to let her get herself into trouble. She was probably still exhausted from the treadmill; maybe not physically, but at least mentally. Her behavior made that clear. She was always cranky when she was tired, and she always lost her filter.

"Yeah, but who's gonna help us?" she muttered. Her eyes move back to the bed.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "Talking like that's gonna get you in trouble. So eat your sweet roll, and then we'll go to class."

Her eyes flashed with excitement. "History?"

James smiled a little. She'd always enjoyed that subject. It'd probably be enough to pull her out of her sour mood. "Yeah, history."

William Hayes watched his subjects through a small window in the door. Inside the classroom, they were sitting quietly in their assigned desks, their gazes turned towards the front of the room, just as they'd been taught to do. Last time he'd been to the room, a teacher's desk was at the back of the room with a terminal on it. This time, the desk was at the front of the room and the terminal had been mounted to the wall nearby. He observed the children a few moments longer before entering, large strides quickly taking him to the front of the room. He set the clipboard he'd been carrying on a desk at the front of the room before turning to the terminal and entering the password. "Good morning, students," he greeted.

"Good morning, Overseer Hayes," was the monotone response.

They were like drones, he thought. Every one of the children followed protocol flawlessly. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. It kept them in line and made experiments easier, but the purpose of Vault 75 was to improve the human gene pool. They needed to produce stronger, smarter children. Drones weren't what Vault-Tec , or the Institute, had in mind.

Of course, if they  _did_  produce what Vault-Tec wanted, the children would likely rebel. They wouldn't stay and subject themselves to countless experiments. There were no guards and there was no defense system aside from the Vault's door, so the children could move straight to the research team without opposition. The staff, while much more intelligent than most of the subjects, were no match for them physically. There was no question about it; a rebellion would mean the end of Vault 75 and the death of his entire team.

Maybe one day he'd figure out a solution to that problem.

Upon finding the file he'd gone in search of, Hayes turned to face the class. "Today, we're discussing Uptopland." He clasped his hands together, raising a brow as he surveyed the room. The children exchanged glances excitedly. Given, they weren't really children anymore; the youngest, Nina Kurt, was twelve, and the oldest, Alma, James, and Rohit, were seventeen. Despite their age, they didn't realize what a silly name 'Uptopland' was. They also failed to realize that they'd never make it to Uptopland.

Seventeen years of experimenting on those three, and Rohit still wasn't up to par. Given, most of them weren't and Rohit had been subject to different experiments than Alma and James, so he couldn't be too disappointed.

"Can anyone tell me what you'll be doing in Uptopland?" Overseer Hayes asked. Several hands shot up in response, for which he was pleased. "Rohit, why don't you tell us?" The boy's hand hadn't been one of those raised, but Hayes was curious as to what the boy's answer would be. He definitely didn't have his sister's mind and, frankly, his memory wasn't the greatest. He had a hard time retaining information that he should, such as the vault dog's name, the date, the year. Simple things.

Rohit glanced up from his hands, which were clasped on his desk. "To help people," he said.

That was the simple answer, and they all knew it. Hayes turned to Alma. "Care to elaborate, Miss Lancaster?"

Alma smiled, clearly glad for the opportunity. She had a rivalry with James and they constantly tried to one-up the other, always showing off and always trying to sabotage each other. Of course, they didn't take it personally; being top of the class was a huge accomplishment, and if the experiments or challenges were made more difficult, the research staff were able to get better results. Once, during an agility test, James had rigged the course so it'd break. Alma had broken her arm, but still finished the course. "Well," she began, "We're going to start by helping settlements. Making sure they're safe, teaching them how to effectively patrol their territory, teaching them how to farm better, maybe give them some of our seeds so they can eat more than mutfruit and tatos."

"And then?" Hayes raised his brow.

"And then, we head west, doing the same thing till we get in touch with the NCR."

"Why the NCR? Why not the Enclave, or the Minutemen?"

"Because the NCR wants to bring back laws and government and peace. The Enclave is just a bunch of elitists, and the Minutemen just protect people, they don't seem to know much about the government, and they don't have the same manpower as the NCR." She shrugged. "In short, the NCR is probably the best bet we can make as far as helping to restore peace and stuff to the country."

Hayes leaned against the desk. "And what about the corruption in the NCR? We've discussed it plenty of times.

The girl faltered.

He watched her, remaining silent. People usually continued speaking when they thought someone was waiting on an answer. She'd probably do the same, as usual. As successful as the experiments on that girl had been, she talked more than he cared to listen.

"W-well," she said, "We have time to figure that out. We've got months till graduation, and then it'll take ages to get there. We don't have to have the whole plan laid out right now. Besides, even if we did, we might get there and find out something that'd completely derail the plan."

"So you're suggesting going in without a plan?" He crossed his arms. "If you decided to move against someone like the Brotherhood of Steel without one, you'd end up dead."

Alma frowned. "That's not what I'm saying at all, Overseer Hayes." She hated when he twisted her words. He'd done it to all of them, more times than they could count. The girl sighed before continuing. "We need a plan. But we also need to be able to make changes to that plan, because like I said, we might get there and find out something that completely changes the circumstances."

"Good," he said, then took a seat at the desk. "Now, what happened to Uptopland, exactly? What started the Great War?" His eyes scanned the class, curious as to who would answer next.

Another hand rose, this one belonging to a brunette boy with dark eyes.

"Mister Burke?" the Overseer glanced to him.

"Nuclear bombs," he declared, "China, the United States, and the USSR all launched them."

"Why?"

The boy remained silent for a moment, as if recalling the information. He sighed and shook his head. "Does it really matter? The world's been ruined and history isn't going to change."

Hayes arched a brow. "History is important, Mister Burke," he chided, "Humanity may be in a bad position right now, but when we do recover, we'll make the same mistakes again if we aren't careful. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it." He glanced to the boy again. "Who did I just quote?"

"George Santayana, sir."

"At least you retained  _that_  information," he grumbled. "Now, can anyone else tell me why the bombs were launched?"

The children remained silent.

Hayes sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "We've been over this," he huffed. The man crossed his arms and looked out over the class. "The worldwide energy crisis. Does that ring any bells?" Before any of the children could respond, he continued. "The world was running out of fossil fuels. Years of fighting led to the bombs being launched, remember?" Still, the class remained silent. He was thankful for it this time; if anyone spoke, he might start yelling. Given the nature of some of the experiments performed on children, making them angry wasn't something he wanted to do just yet. And if he did, it wouldn't be in a classroom with them. It'd be in a controlled environment. Something capable of holding super mutants.

The Overseer sighed again and stood. "Does anyone remember Uptopland Heroes, at least?"

Most of the class nodded, much to his relief.

"Good. Then read it tonight for homework. Maybe it'll remind all of you what you're working towards." He turned and walked out of the room, letting the door slam behind him. He then made his way back to the elevator, put his password in, and stepped inside. All of the staff had a different passcode, even though very few came down to interact with the children. It was more for emergencies, really. If it were up to Hayes, none of them would interact with the children. The Institute's synths would handle the experiments. The staff would observe from the top floor. But according to Father at the Institute, children needed human interaction. With adults.

So, Hayes had agreed to run a lesson every week, and let the Institute send some of its scientists and coursers to teach the children basic things like how to shoot a gun, basic first aid, how to farm plants. Practical things that they'd believe would be used after Graduation.

The elevator stopped, dinged, and opened its doors. Hayes let out a sigh and made his way to the staff cafeteria, got a bowl of beans and rice, and made his way to a table. In contrast to the wasteland, the vault still had decent amounts of food. The Institute also sent some every so often, which is where they'd obtained the rice. The collaboration with the group wasn't something Hayes was happy with, but he knew that they'd be able to help them reach their goal. Nothing they'd tried had been consistently successful on subjects. Pills, steroids, strains of FEV and PV. It had all failed, every time, for the last two hundred and ten years.

Of course, there were one-offs. Successes from each experiment that didn't fail. But nothing had been what they needed, and nothing had worked on all the subjects, or even the majority. A 74% disposal rate was considered good, and that's what it had been the year before.

"Overseer Hayes?"

He looked up to find a dark-skinned woman standing at his table, her bowl in hand. She was tall. Five feet, eight inches, if he remembered her file correctly, with dark hair and eyes. "Rochelle," he greeted, "What can I do for you?" He gestured to the seat across from himself, indicating for her to sit.

The woman nodded a thanks and set her bowl down, then sat in the chair. "I wanted to apologize for earlier. I know better than to question you."

"I know." He sighed and raked a hand through his grey hair. "You've done well since your recruitment. No one, even those of us with high scores on our intelligence screenings, has perfect judgement."

She smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, sir."

Hayes eyed her for a moment. "You remember the PEV experiments, don't you?"

"Of course," Rochelle said, eyeing the Overseer, "It's a hybrid between FEV and the Pan-Immunity Virion. They used it on Alma Lancaster and James Smith, and as of right now, both are considered successes."

"Right." He set his spoon next to his bowl and leaned back in his seat. "Lancaster may be having a bad day, or she could just be wiped out from the treadmill, but a synth overheard her talking about how we kill kids and they don't have a way to leave."

Rochelle furrowed her brow. "And you're worried about..?" Alma wasn't the first to say things like that. They heard about the children saying the same thing a few times a year, so this was nothing new.

"She's one of the PEV experiments, Doctor Morris. She's got the Pan-Immunity Evolutionary Virus. She's much stronger than the others, and we don't know what will happen with her. For all we know, she could turn into a mutant if she gets angry enough."

"And you want me to make sure she doesn't."

"Exactly. James is fairly docile, but she's always been a little eccentric. Her temper's never been bad, but FEV has a history of causing fits of rage. Anything could trigger it. We don't know what will happen."

"And if she does mutate?" The woman watched him cautiously.

"Well," he began, setting a gun in front of her. It was a small, 10mm pistol, probably one he'd taken from the shooting range. "The Synths aren't armed. They're on a pacifistic setting, according to the Institute."

"So?" Christ, she hoped he wasn't asking her to do what she thought he was. She couldn't shoot a child.

 

The Overseer sighed, visibly annoyed with having to explain her orders so clearly. He wondered if she was stupid, which was unlikely considering she'd made it onto the research staff, or if she just didn't want him to ask what he was about to.

"If Alma Lancaster mutates, you're in charge of killing her."


	2. Chapter 2

White lights.

That's what she could see.

What could she feel?

Pain. It was everywhere, but worse in her left arm and her ribs than anywhere else.

And with a sudden crack, the pain spread to her left leg as well.

"No!" Alma cried, "Oh, god, please stop!"

"Alma," Rochelle said, careful to keep her voice calm, "We have to do this. You know we do."

The girl glanced over to her arm; it had been broken, and the bone poked through his skin. There was blood. A lot of it. And bruising, and swelling, and the sight made her sick. She knew her abdomen would be equally bruised, because her ribs had been cracked.

She squeezed his eyes shut before she vomited. "Why?" she whispered. This wasn't the first time they'd subjected her to this. It had happened before, both to her and James. The other children, though? They hadn't been put through this since they were kids.

Rochelle opted not to respond. She knew why; Alma been injected with PEV, and one of the effects was that her body healed faster than most. That meant that they had to test it, see what her limits were, and see how quickly he recovered. Telling her about it, however, wasn't an option. Instead, the doctor turned to the synth responsible for injuring the girl on her table. "Her ankle next." The synth nodded and did as it was told.

Pain exploded in Alma's leg, briefly blinding her. She shrieked. She knew it was coming, and she knew it was going to hurt, because the synths were told to grind the broken bones against each other whilst breaking them in an attempt to splinter them further.

Rochelle seemed unphased by the girl's screams. Alma's voice had become hoarse from the screaming and crying, but Rochelle had no choice but to continue. She glanced over her chart before giving the synth its next order. "Dislocate her shoulder."

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

James and Rohit sat outside of one of the experiment rooms. There were several, and most were on the same hallway as the two bows. Every single one of them had windows, which meant that the experiments could be observed. The pair could hear Alma's screams from inside, but they were faint due to the thickness of the vault's walls.

"Which ones do you think they're breaking this time?" Rohit asked. His knees were drawn to his chest, and his eyes were locked on the floor.

James had his legs laid out straight on the floor. His ankles were crossed, and his hands were clasped in his lap. Like Rohit, his eyes were downcast. "I have no idea," he said, "but I bet they're grinding. That's probably why she's screaming so much."

"I hate this."

The blonde sighed. "Yeah, me too." He leaned his head back against the wall and allowed his eyes to drift shut. "The three of us are gonna graduate soon, though. We've got, what, three months?"

Rohit nodded. "Three months. And then none of us are going to have to deal with these experiments. We'll just head west, get in touch with the NCR, and start actually helping people."

"You know," James muttered, "I heard they told the last Graduates to go to the Enclave. You know, the ones who see anyone but their own as unpure or whatever."

He furrowed his brow. "That doesn't make any sense. Why would they send them there? Wouldn't they get shot on sight or something?"

"I have no idea. Maybe the staff has some kind of connection to them. Maybe they send us all different places?"

"Yeah," Rohit said, "maybe." He glanced to James. "Wanna go to the shooting range till they're done with her?"

James nodded, and the pair stood. Rohit, however, froze upon spotting the experiment across the hall.

Radiation emitters were in the room, surrounding a small platform. On it was a girl of Asian descent. Despite only being thirteen, she was nearly six feet tall and weighed nearly two hundred pounds. She was slim, however, and the weight was due to muscle. The girl was on her knees, her hands on her scalp where her hair used to be. It was now scattered on the platform around her. Her skin was covered in radiation burns and sores that had popped up over the last week, because she'd been in there every day for the last two weeks.

And now, on the fifteenth day? Her skin was peeling off.

James watched in horror as the girl's mouth opened, presumably because she was screaming. His attention was stolen by the sound of retching, and when he turned to face it, he saw Rohit vomiting into a nearby trash can.

"Mitu," he gasped between retches, "t-they're gonna kill her!"

James's gaze shifted back to Mitu, the girl being exposed to the radiation. She'd also vomited a few times earlier in the experiment because of the radiation, but by this point, she'd stopped screaming and had collapsed. James was thankful she'd at least been able to avoid collapsing into one of the pools of vomit, and he turned back to Rohit. "Hey," he muttered, "let's go. You don't need to be down here."

Rohit had stopped vomiting, but he still leaned against the trash can to steady himself. When James spoke, he glanced up, and after a moments hesitation, followed.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

The two quickly made their way back toward the atrium rather than the shooting range. It served as a cafeteria, and as such, a small kitchen was attached. On the opposite side of the room was a doorway; this led to a large cavern with a swing set, a geometric dome for climbing on, and generators. This is where James led Rohit to, and the two seated themselves on the swings.

Silence.

They didn't need to speak. They both knew what the other was thinking.

James was concerned for Alma. He was worried for Mitu, but he'd already accepted that the girl was going to die. They always did in that state. Alma, though? She'd survived the bone breaking on more than a few occasions, and this wasn't a particularly rough round. There had been one time where over half of the bones in her body had been broken. He still remembered what she looked like after that; covered in splints and casts and bandages, unable to move for weeks. Unable to feed herself, or bathe, or even use the bathroom on her own.

This was nothing compared to that.

Rohit was angry. Angry at the staff for subjecting his sister to this, angry at them for killing Mitu, angry at them for all the other tests they ran on the kids. He'd seen countless children die. For what?

He knew they were supposed to go to Uptopland to help people. He wanted to do it. But were these experiments worth it? What could they do that normal people couldn't? Sure, James and Alma were stronger and smarter. They'd be useful. But everyone else? They were either average, or less than that. None of them would be any more useful than any other settler, and given how little they actually knew about Uptopland, they might even be a hindrance to settlements.

The experiments and tests and pain they were being subjected to were a waste as far as he was concerned. And he hated them for continuing to do it.

"She'll be out soon," James muttered.

Rohit glanced up to a clock on the wall. The two had been sitting in silence for nearly an hour. "You wanna get the sweet roll for her?"

"Yeah," he said, standing, "You go meet her in her room. She'll be in a lot of pain."

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

Alma was in her bed by the time Rohit got to the sleeping quarters. Her left arm and leg were both in casts after being set. Her ribs had been left untouched since a cast wasn't a possibility, and compression wraps could have led to pneumonia. Still, the fact that they'd been cracked meant that moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Laying in any other position except for flat on her back hurt, but that had never been a comfortable position for her.

In short, she was tired, hurting, and now hungry because she'd vomited during the experiment due to the pain.

The door slid open, and Rohit stepped through. His face was solemn, but she was glad to see him and his messy auburn hair and pretty hazel eyes. They were distinct and familiar and she'd be able to pick him out of a crowd from any distance with them. "Hey," she muttered.

Rohit grabbed a couple chairs and set them next to the bed before taking a seat in one. "Hey. How bad is it?"

"From one to ten?" Alma sighed and closed her eyes. "About a seven."

"No painkillers?"

"Course not."

Rohit leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "We only have a couple more months till graduation, you know."

The girl nodded. "I know."

"James is getting you a sweet roll."

A small smile formed on her lips. "I know that, too. You guys always do that."

"Well, you do it for us." He smiled and laced his fingers through Alma's, taking care to avoid bumping her ribs.

"Yeah, because you two are titty babies about pain."

Rohit's smile widened. Despite her pain, Alma was still joking. That was a good sign. "Don't make me kick your ass, Alma."

"Oh, whatever. You couldn't take me, not even now when I'm in bed with casts."

"Is that a challenge?"

Alma grinned. "Oh, look, you actually caught on this time."

"Why, you-"

Rohit was cut off by the door opening again. This time, it was James who entered, a sweet roll and napkin in his hand. "You two really gotta quit bickering," he said as he made his way toward the bed. Despite his statement, he had a twinkle in his eyes that made it clear he found the two amusing.

"How'd you know we were bickering?" Alma asked, her grin having faded to a smile.

"These rooms have windows," he explained, "I know you two well enough to know what you look like when you're doing it."

Rohit rolled his eyes and leaned forward to kiss his sister's forehead. "I'll give you guys a sec. I'm gonna go find some painkillers."

Alma nodded and watched as her brother left before looking to James. "Can I have the sweet roll?"

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

The atrium was empty by the time Rohit left Alma. As such, it was silent. Most lights had been shut off, and synths were going about cleaning the place up. They did throughout the day, but in the evenings, they swept, mopped, and whatever else they needed to do. The atrium also had bathrooms and locker rooms attached to it, and Rohit made his way to the latter, as he'd had painkillers stashed in his locker. He grabbed the bottle of pills, then made his way back toward the sleeping quarters Alma had been sent to.

He paused a few moments later when he heard rustling. It was an odd sound, given that there was nothing around that should be making it. After a few moments of looking around, his eyes settled on a vent. Stuck to the vent's grille was a small packet of paper.

Rohit furrowed his brow and fished them out, looking the papers over. There were three, and they were stapled together. On the first page, there was information about them.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

_P.E.V. Subjects_

_Alma Lancaster_

_Scored superior in both intellectual and physical screenings. PEV seems effective._

_Set for Harvesting._

 

_James Smith_

_Scored superior in physical screenings and excellent in intellectual screenings. PEV seems effective._

_Set for Harvesting._

 

_Steroid Subjects_

_Rohit Lancaster_

_Scored excellent in physical screenings and average in intellectual screenings. Steroids are effective, but don't provide the desired results._

_Set for Disposal._

 

_Mitu Kane_

_Scored average in both physical and intellectual screenings. Steroids ineffective._

_Died during radiation exposure experiment. Body is to be disposed of._

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

The list continued and ran onto the second page, detailing more experiments using enhancement pills and pre-birth genetic enhancement, with Nina Kurt and Brendon Clarke being standard humans and serving as the "control group."

Alma and James were the only two set for "harvesting."

What was disposal? What did it mean?

Rohit's blood ran cold when he turned to the third page.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

_Subjects will be thrown the usual Graduation party in the morning._

_Overseer Hayes will give his speech on Uptopland after lunch, and then one by one, subjects will be brought to the upper floor for lethal injections._

_Subjects will be told these are vaccines._

_After being given injections, subjects will be tagged with their names, numbers, and destinations. Synths will take the subjects being disposed of down to the incinerator._

_The subjects being harvested will be moved to labs and used to create the next round of subjects._

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦• ≫ ──── ≪

Panic spread through the boy's body.

His hands shook.

His mind raced.

There wasn't enough air in the room.

Before he knew it, Rohit was running. The paper was clenched in his hand, and he didn't realize it, but the pills he'd gotten for Alma had been dropped and forgotten. He sprinted through the corridors until he'd reached Alma's room, where James stood, waiting for him.

"Hey," the boy greeted, "she's asleep. Well, unconscious. Passed out a few minutes ago. Did you get the-" James stopped upon noticing the state Rohit was in. "What's going on?"

Rohit simply pushed the paper into James's hands, his throat too tight to speak.

James scanned the papers. Just like Rohit, the color drained from his face and his hands began shaking. He swallowed, then looked to his friend. "This can't be right," he whispered.

"It was in a vent," Rohit muttered, "and there aren't any printers down here. It had to have come from the staff floor."

The two boys looked to each other, sharing a single thought:

_We have to stop this._


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

"What the hell do you think we can do about this, Rohit?"

The boys had moved to the bathrooms down the hall; it was empty, secluded, and granted the boys the privacy they needed to discuss the Graduation papers. They'd also avoid waking Alma, who had been unconscious when they'd stepped out.

Rohit's skin had lost its color, and he paced the room whilst running his hands through his hair. He wondered for a moment what he'd gotten himself into. "I don't know, James!" He exclaimed, "But we have to do something! You see what that says!"

James leaned against one of the sinks as he looked the papers over once again, his expression almost fearful. If what the papers said were true, it was deeply disturbing. "I know. It's got a list of kids in our class, but it's out of date; Mitu died, and she's still on here." He paused for a moment. "I'm confused though. P.E.V. isn't something I've heard of; FEV is what makes super mutants, so they might be related." He sighed as he flipped through the pages, wondering for a moment if he and Alma had some form of FEV in their systems, and what that meant. Were they a danger to their friends? "It sounds like this is has been going on for a while, possibly even since the bombs dropped."

Rohit nodded in agreement. "That wouldn't surprise me, but we need to do something."

"I agree," he said, "but we have no idea what we'd be up against. Even if we did make it out of here, you know what's in Uptopland. Raiders. Mutants. Radscorpions."

"Deathclaws," Rohit added.

James nodded. "Deathclaws."

"So what do we do?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "But we have a better chance at surviving up there than we do down here. It's guaranteed that we'll be killed if we do nothing."

He turned to face James, coming to a stop. "We need a plan, and we need help."

The boy remained silent for a moment as he considered their options. They'd likely have to fight their way out; the Overseer wasn't one to negotiate, and if he found out that anyone knew about what actually happened at Graduation, it'd mean trouble. That man would do anything to keep the vault running how it should. The other problem was that they had no idea how many people stood between them and freedom. Even if there were only a few humans, the synths could still be a threat.

"We need a way to find out what we're going to be dealing with," James stated. "We can't do anything blind, or we'll end up dead."

"The only way we can find out anything about the research team is by finding someone who's willing to help. That's what you want to do?" Rohit gawked. "James, they'll go straight to the Overseer! We can't!"

James shook his head. "I don't think they all know."

His brows knitted together in confusion. "Why not? Why wouldn't they all know?"

"Think about it, Rohit. They recruited Washington from last year's kids. Margaret Fox was recruited a few years before that, and a year or two before her, Rochelle Morris. They know some of the people here. They had friends. How do you think they'd react to finding out we all die at Graduation?"

Rohit blinked in surprise, then nodded slowly. He hadn't considered that, but he knew James was right. "So, those are the three we talk to."

James nodded. "They're our best bet. Washington was kind of an ass, but I don't think he'd just jump on board with that, especially with how close he was to Nina. Margo had a big heart, so she wouldn't be okay with it either."

"I hope you're right," he muttered. "But it's also been a long time since we saw any of them. We don't know how much they've changed."

He sighed. "You're not wrong, but what choice do we have? Like I said, if we go in blind, we're dead. We need help. So, if you handle Washington, I'll find Margo. Screenings are coming up, and they always need more people than usual for that. I bet they'll bring her down for them."

Rohit let out a small sigh, but nodded. "I hope you're right. For now, I don't think we should tell Alma anything. If we get caught and she doesn't know anything, they might not do anything to her."

James nodded in agreement. "Right. Until we know more, and have some kind of plan, she needs to stay in the dark. She doesn't need this now anyways, not after the experiment they did on her today. We'll let her rest for now."

•⊱──────⊰•❀•⊱──────⊰•

Rochelle sighed and leaned back in her chair, surveying her room. Twin beds were on opposite sides of the room, each with a nightstand next to them and a Vault-Tec steamer trunk at the foot. There were also a pair of dressers, two desks, a bookshelf, and a bathroom that the room's inhabitants shared. While small, the space had enough room for the items that had been placed in it.

She'd been tasked with coordinating the next round of screenings. Each child went through them. It served as a way to measure how well they were doing, and how well each experiment worked. Each child had to undergo physical and intellectual screenings, and those who performed well were subjected to harsher experiments later on to find their limits. To Rochelle, the experiments were more like torture.

As she began to turn back to her papers, the room's door opened, and in came a woman only a few years younger than her. Like all the staff, the woman wore a white lab coat and black slacks; her chestnut hair was pulled into a neat bun, and she sported a bright red lipstick. Bold colors like that were an uncommon choice, but it suited the woman. "Evening, Rochelle," she said as she made her way to her dresser. "I heard Hayes charged you with coordinating the screenings. How's that going?"

"Boring," Rochelle muttered with an eyeroll. "I can't wait to be done with it. Is there anyone you want to work with on these, Margo? I can put you down for whoever you want."

"The PEV subjects," she said without hesitation. After removing her lab coat, which revealed a long sleeved black top, she opened her dresser to search for pajamas.

"You're sure?" Rochelle's brows knitted together. "I hear the Lancaster girl is a nightmare."

"I'm sure."

"But why?"

Margo shrugged and tossed the pajamas onto her bed, beginning to change. "They interest me."

"That's it? You're just curious?"

"Pretty much. I mean, they're the only ones we've injected with anything FEV related. PEV is only FEV and the pan-immunity virion right?"

Rochelle nodded. "More or less. The development team probably does more than just combining them, but that's the gist of it."

"Okay, and they could mutate any time they get angry with the FEV in it." She flashed her roommate a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's exciting. I want them."

She raised a brow. "The other stuff in that injection keeps the FEV mutations in check, while still offering the extra strength and endurance it should have given when it was first developed."

Margo shrugged. "It's experimental. We don't know what could happen, not really."

She laughed a bit. "Right, and let's say you do end up in a room with a super mutant. What then?"

"I was always a good shot," she boasted. "Mutants are tough to kill, but a shot through the eye would do just fine. It'd be easy enough in close range like that."

"If you could pull your gun in time."

"Other vaults used regular FEV, and those records say the transformation took a bit. Other vaults had them quarantined in individual rooms. If it was instant, they wouldn't have been able to lock them up."

"Fair enough," Rochelle muttered. "You're the only one on this team aside from Hayes with decent physical scores anyways. I doubt the rest of us could take down a mutant."

"Speaking of Hayes," she said, padding to Rochelle's bed to take a seat, "I think something's wrong with graduation."

"Why?" She glanced to the young woman on her bed.

"Washington lost some papers earlier. Said they were related to it, but he was really shaken up about it."

Rochelle's brow furrowed. "That doesn't sound like any normal set of papers. I wonder what it was."

She nodded in agreement. "Yeah. I know. He also said he talked to Hayes about repairing the shooting range, but he got really defensive about it. Told him it wasn't his job to worry about that, and he got really mad when Washington kept pushing."

"That's… weird. If the other graduates are up on the surface, what's wrong with contacting them and asking for supplies? Maybe manpower to actually do the repairs?" She crossed her arms. "It's not like we're in a dangerous part of the Commonwealth. The area around us is pretty empty except for some ghouls and molerats, so the vault wouldn't be in much danger."

"I know. That was Washington's logic too." She paused, a concerned expression settling on her face. "Rochelle, what if those kids aren't up there?"

She paused as well, mulling over the idea. It wasn't entirely impossible; only a select few senior staff members were involved with the graduation process, and none of the previous subjects had been heard from in any form. Still, it was a dangerous thing to talk about. "Margo," Rochelle croaked, "please tell me you haven't told anyone else about this."

"Of course not," she scoffed. "I'm not stupid. Most of the staff have their heads so far up Hayes's ass that he could shoot their kid and they wouldn't bat an eye. I heard he actually did kill a staff member before we were recruited."

"It wouldn't surprise me. But still, you should be careful."

Margo gave a nod. "I know, and I will be. I need to know what's going on though. If Hayes, maybe even other Overseers, have been murdering kids…"

Rochelle barked a laugh. "If what? What could we possibly do? Even if we did anything, most of us wouldn't survive up top. You and Hayes are the only ones with decent physical scores. The rest of us are weak. The first ghoul we ran into would kill us."

"So, what, you're just okay with them killing kids?" She scowled at her roommate.

"That is  _not_  what I said."

"Well, you don't seem to want to do anything to stop it."

"We don't even know if it's happening, Margo!" Rochelle huffed and turned back toward her desk. "Look, I have a lot of work to get done before I go to bed. I'm guessing you have an early morning too."

Margo paused, but nodded and made her way to her own bed, deciding she'd pushed Rochelle enough for one night.

•⊱──────⊰•❀•⊱──────⊰•

Rohit sat next to his sister's bed. It had been a few days since the last experiment – the one that left so many of her bones shattered – was performed on her, and since he'd found the papers on Graduation. Over that period of time, he and James hadn't spoken much – to each other, or anyone else.

His thoughts had , of course, been focused on any potential plan to escape the vault. Thus far, he had nothing. He'd managed to find a map of the vault in an old storage closet, which was needed considering that none of the children were allowed on the upper floor that the staff inhabited, but it had been damaged by a water leak years back and rendered useless.

Alma was also a concern. If, somehow, he and James were able to get help from at least one of the younger staff members, there'd be a massacre in the vault. He had no doubt that the staff were armed, and given that all the children were trained to use firearms, they were likely dangerous enemies even if they'd been on the upper floor for years. Alma could handle herself, but he hated the idea that she'd be in a fight like what was coming. He wanted her safe. It was his job to make sure that was the case, but if he needed to fight, he couldn't protect her.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Rohit jumped and whirled to face James, who'd entered with a couple bottles of Nuka Cola. He held one out to Rohit, who took it and held it rather than opening it. "Alma," he whispered. "I want her safe, but if we have to fight our way out of here, neither of us can protect her. We'll be busy elsewhere."

James watched his friend for a moment before sighing and pulling up a chair. "Rohit, she has some of the best scores out of all the kids in the vault. She even outran me on the treadmills." He paused to glance at the girl, still sleeping soundly. "I want her safe too, but she's not a kid. We're all a couple months away from being eighteen, and she can take care of herself. Besides, the only people who get recruited to the staff have low physical scores."

"That doesn't mean they're any less deadly with guns. There's no way they're not armed up there."

"You're right," he muttered, "but we're good shots. They don't ever come down to the shooting range, and I don't think there's even space for them to have one up there. I bet they're out of practice."

Rohit nodded, relaxing a little. "It's almost like they're grooming us to overthrow them."

James's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Think about it," he began, "they only take people with low physical scores and high intellectual scores. We're all experimented on to make us stronger, faster, and smarter, and they tell us it's so we can go to Uptopland and help people. According to them, the people up there struggle, and they're weak, so they need stronger people to protect them." Rohit gestured toward the upper floor. "If we're so much stronger, I guess we stand a chance. Unless there are more up there than we can handle."

He nodded, slowly beginning to understand. "You're right, but that doesn't mean it'll be easy to get out of here. One well-placed shot could take any of us down, and we don't know whether those synths are going to be a threat or not."

"Who exactly is 'us,' anyways? Who's going to be fighting, and which age group are we considering too young?"

"I'd say if they can handle a gun, they should fight," James stated. "This affects all of us; we can't ignore it, and we can't afford to be picky with help. That said," he paused and pursed his lips, considering their options, "I don't think many of the younger kids would be any good in a fight. Maybe thirteen? Nina's the only one younger than that. Twelve, and the last one left in her class."

"Nina also has really high physical scores though. I don't think we should leave her out." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, his eyes locked on the floor. "Me, you, Alma, Mehren, Nina, and Ellie Barnes all scored either superior or excellent in our last physical screening. Ellie's the only one who scored below average intellectually, but she'd still be useful. We should take everyone but Alma, and leave her with the weaker kids. She can protect them while we fight, and she'll be safer away from the main battle."

James sighed and closed his eyes. "That's actually not a bad plan, depending on the staff. We should ask more people to fight if there are any more than ten staff members though."

Rohit nodded. "Most of us that are above average should be able to take at least two each, so, that's fair."

"We don't actually know much about our abilities though. I mean, we know our limits. When we need to rest and eat, and how much we can push ourselves to the extreme, but none of us have been in real fights." He stretched, then moved to get to his feet. "I'd like to outnumber them, but I doubt that's an option. And if we're bred to be stronger, smarter, and faster, I'd say it's a safe bet that we'll be able to take on the people they've recruited."

"You're not wrong," he muttered. "I just hope we'll get through all this."

James spared a glance to Alma. "Believe me, I do too. We need to-" he stopped as someone knocked on the door.

Rohit glanced to James. "Who do you think that is?"

"I have no idea," he muttered, "Everyone's usually asleep by now." He sighed, then padded toward the door, opening it when he arrived. When he saw who their visitor was, his blood ran cold.

_"Washington?"_


End file.
